


the chemicals are restless in my head

by Lise



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Childhood Memories, Drabble Collection, Ficlet Collection, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Huddling For Warmth, Loki Angst, Loki Has Issues, Miscarriage, Mother-Son Relationship, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Thor (2011), Siblings, Thor Feels, Thor: The Dark World Spoilers, nebulous timelines
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-13 13:59:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3384233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>And ever since I figured out that I could control other people/I've had trouble sleeping with both eyes closed.</i>
</p>
<p>A place to put my various Loki and/or Thor-centric drabbles and oneshots that don't really go anywhere else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. maybe we could leave this all behind

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt by [thescentofwhiteroses](http://thescentofwhiteroses.tumblr.com) on Tumblr.com for "Thor & Loki, huddling for warmth." I never met a trope I didn't like in my life. (That's not true. There are a few. Maybe. If I think about it too hard I'll probably come up with ways those could be done that I'd like too.)

The wind was howling like a demon. Thor had packed the snow in as best he could, but every gust still seemed to send a fresh burst of cold into the cave. He felt it, though not acutely yet, and the cave would warm. But…

He glanced across. As far away as he could get, folded into the opposite corner like a shadow and looking at him out of baleful eyes, Loki glowered at him as though this had been Thor’s idea - the snowstorm, his wretched state, all of it. 

"I didn’t want this," Thor tried reminding him. Loki’s teeth flashed. 

"No, of course not." His voice was faintly hoarse. "You always say that, when you err, as though it makes any difference what you  _wanted_ when it  _happened._ ”

"I didn’t know," Thor tried, and Loki scoffed and pulled the rags of his clothing around himself, tightly drawn together, huddled like he had as a child under Thor’s blankets when the nights were cold. 

"You’re chilled," Thor said. 

"I am fine." A small shudder ran visibly through his body, stifled too late. "We  _are_ in a snowy wasteland. I am not  _comfortable._ For a number of reasons.” 

Thor refused to take the hint. “You’re not well, Loki. You need to-“

"Do not tell me what I  _need_ to do.” Loki’s voice cut through his like a knife, and Thor fell silent, but only for a moment. He cleared his throat and tried again. 

"If you would just…you would not feel the cold, would you, if you…"

Loki’s shoulders locked, even more rigid, though Thor would not have believed it possible. “Do not,” he said, and no more, but Thor didn’t dare press harder, afraid Loki would leave if he tried, to vanish out in the snow. Perhaps die. Could he refuse - his nature, even that far? 

Thor didn’t want to find out. 

Another gust of wind howled by, and Thor felt a burst of cold air. Loki shivered violently, though, and Thor heard his teeth click. After it passed, he didn’t stop, his shoulders shaking, his breathing coming unevenly. 

"Loki," he said, carefully. 

"Don’t come near me," he spat, through chattering teeth. Thor took a step nearer, but when Loki tried to press back he stopped. 

"I only…" he trailed off. "…it doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t have to mean anything. I will not…"

“ _I will not._ ”

"Then let me help!" 

Silence, but for the sound of Loki’s shivering. Thor held very still, as though if he didn’t move perhaps he could change what Loki would say, because he knew, he  _knew-_

"Fine." 

Thor blinked. Stared. Blinked again. “—what?” 

"I said,  _fine.”_  Loki’s teeth clattered together. “I don’t wish to die. And I will not - do as you suggest. So if these are my choices…” He looked up at Thor, eyes empty of affection. “Then I will take it.” 

Thor took a deep breath, and let it out. He edged a little closer, half expecting some attack, and then sat down next to Loki, whose shoulders were like a wall. “I need to,” he started to say. 

"Get on with it." Loki’s voice was sharp, harsh. Thor eased his arm carefully around his shoulders, felt Loki tense impossibly further, and then relax, very slightly. He left his hand loose, not daring any more even though he could feel the small tremors in Loki’s body beside him. He kept his eyes straight ahead, listening to the wind. 

Loki’s body relaxed a little more against his side. Thor unwrapped his cloak and folded it over them both. 

"Do not think," Loki said, his voice still tight. "That this means  _anything_ to me.” 

"I will not," Thor said, even if his heart hurt, saying it. More moments passed. The next gust of wind sounded softer. “I think it might be dying down,” Thor offered, but Loki didn’t answer. A slight shiver ran through his body, and then a sigh. Thor looked down in surprise as Loki shifted, curling up against his side with his head on his shoulder, his eyes closed. 

"I do not forgive you," Loki mumbled, after several long moments. His voice sounded slightly slurred, and for a moment Thor felt frightened, until he reached under the blanket and found the back of his neck, which if not warm was at least not cold, and he wasn’t shaking. 

"I know," Thor said. He tightened his arm a little around Loki, pulled the cloak up to both their necks. "Tomorrow…tomorrow everything goes back to the way it is." But not, he added in his own mind, as it should be. He would never allow that. 

Loki didn’t answer. His face turned to tuck into Thor’s shoulder and his breathing was slow and quiet, even. Sleeping. 

Thor closed his eyes and tucked Loki’s head under his chin. He could feel the air starting to become warmer. 

Tomorrow he’d have to let go again. But whatever the reason, wherever they were, whatever had happened…it was good to have just a little bit of the illusion of his brother back.


	2. I will gladly self destruct if they leave me alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki wakes up after Thor and Jane have gone, alive again. This isn't precisely a pleasant surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random ficlet born from the first sentence and thinking about how many times Loki has "died" now after watching Thor 2. Because Loki _did_ expect to die both at the end of Thor and in Thor 2, and you can fight me about it. (Don't fight me, I'm squishy and have noodle arms.)

How many times do you have to die before the universe decides that you mean it? 

It’s the first thought that pops into his head, when his eyes open and he’s still alive. That makes three times, at last count, that he should have died, by rights, and did not. 

But he is not dead now, judging by the agony in his chest. Not dead, and the silence is conspicuous. 

So Thor is gone, then. Unsurprising; he has nine realms to save. Loki should not resent him for that. It does him no good if the universe is swallowed by darkness. Nevertheless, unfairly, for a moment, he does. It it had been Thor-

But of course, that had been the point, hadn’t it? That it  _could not_ be Thor. 

Loki would make a poor savior, anyway. 

He tries to sit up and screamed, the sound unnaturally loud in the dead air, and falls back, panting shallowly. Raising a hand slowly to his chest, he feels for the wound where the blade had driven through and finds a slightly tacky line of blood. Lucky.  _Unbelievably_ lucky. Or perhaps Hela has simply decided she doesn’t want him in her realm. 

(He ignores, resolutely, the part of him that is  _tired,_ that felt for a moment through the pain and the fear a small flush of relief to be  _done._ _Your birthright was to die,_ Odin said, and yet it seems his fate is to…not.)

It is unjust, he thinks, that the Norns should see fit to resurrect him and leave  _her_ dead. 

Loki calls his magic, though it comes slowly. The working he casts is a clumsy one, and his teeth click together, body arching, as he uses power like an open flame to sear the wound closed. It is graceless and painful, but it does the job, and when he forces his eyes open again this time he can sit up. 

He is not, Loki discovers, lying where he fell, but in a natural hollow of rock, sheltered from the bare wind that is the only weather in this barren realm. 

Thor, Loki thinks. Even with his urgent mission, he took the time to…the fool. As though shifting ash would distress a corpse. 

What is he going to do? 

That is the question, isn’t it? For a bare moment he considers following Thor, but dismisses the idea quickly. For what? If he is victorious, all that awaits Loki is a return to his cell, and if he is not…what does it matter where Loki is when the universe dies? 

This is, it occurs to him slowly, an opportunity. 

As long as he can keep ahead of Thanos - and Thanos will at the very least be delayed by the lack of any means of transportation - there is nothing holding him back, now. He can do as he wills.  _Whatever_ he wills. 

What a thought. 

Loki shifts, leaning back against the rock and closing his eyes. He is still so very tired. His chest still aches. His thoughts keep going back to the way Thor’s face looked above his, eyes full of anguish, like Loki was supposed to matter. 

Loki feels a twinge, and pushes it away. He died with honor. It is the best thing Thor could expect from him, to perish nobly. To reveal himself as living would only ruin it. Likely it would be more disappointment than anything. 

(A part of Loki is very nearly disappointed. It would have been so…neat. Loki appreciates that kind of neatness.)

He considers. 

He does not know, Loki realizes, in the vast quiet, what he is supposed to do now. 

_Whatever you will._

He shivers, and it is almost without thought that he summons the old, battered red cape he stole many years ago. Loki pauses, but only for a moment before he swings it around his shoulders and draws it tight around himself, pulling his knees into his chest. He closes his eyes. 

Just for a moment, it is good to stop and breathe, even if it will not last. 

He wonders, sometimes, if death will be quiet. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor goes into Loki's room before leaving Asgard, looking for something to bring with him and finding more than he bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More random sadfic from the Thor 2 timeline. Because the only thing that's more fun than sad!Loki is sad!Thor. Nobody even prompts these things, they just happen. Pulls a little from a headcanon I talked about in a post [here.](http://veliseraptor.tumblr.com/post/68537291153/but-what-about-thor-wrapping-alive-loki-in-his)

Thor hesitated a long moment before letting himself into Loki’s rooms. He half expected a sting, or perhaps to walk through the door into a different room entirely, one of the many tricks Loki had used to keep Thor out of his rooms when he was uninvited. Nothing happened, though. Thor remembered Loki saying that most spells vanished with their caster’s…

Thor swallowed hard past the lump in his throat and stepped inside. 

Everything was neat, clean, orderly. There were no books strewn about, no half finished constructions of magic here and there. He was relieved that there was no dust, either, but the air still seemed musty, empty somehow. 

These rooms had been sealed since Loki’s fall. He hadn’t set foot in them in years. But everything looked like he might come back at any moment. Frigga had kept it that way.

Frigga…

Thor sat down on Loki’s bed, moving gingerly though the wounds from his fight with Malekith were well healed. He closed his eyes and imagined Frigga sitting here, as he was now. If she were here - she  _should_ be here-

 _Loki_ should be here. Everything was so very, awfully wrong and he didn’t know how to set it  _right._

At least…at least they had both died fighting. They would be together now, his mother and Loki, and perhaps Loki would have some peace at last, madness left behind with his body on Svartalfheim.

A body that still had not been found, that might be buried under the ruins of Malekith’s ship, or dragged off by some scavenger, or-

A ragged noise escaped Thor’s throat and he dropped his face into his hands, taking a sharp breath. He stood jerkily and wandered over to Loki’s desk, began looking through the drawers, not sure what he was seeking. 

He found it in the third drawer down, tucked inside a box of dried herbs and underneath sheets of paper covered in Loki’s scrawl. At first Thor took it for little more than a knot of wood that Loki had kept for some obscure sorcerous purpose, but then he looked at it more closely and could see the clumsy carving marks, notches in the wood, but it was worn smooth, gleaming slightly with oil that had worked its way into the grain. Thor sat back. 

"I remember making this," he said to the empty room. "I remember giving it to you. I-"

His voice cut off and Thor clutched the little carven creature - he couldn’t even remember what it was supposed to  _be_ \- to his chest. The lump in his throat was so large he didn’t feel he could breathe around it. He knew it was likely Loki had forgotten what it was, had just tucked it away because he hated throwing things away (it might be important later!), but it still…

Loki had been his brother again, at the end. 

Thor wished, suddenly, that the spell on the door had stung his fingers. That Loki would appear to laugh and mock him for believing it. Thor thought he would have forgiven  _anything,_ if Loki would just…not be dead. 

The moment passed. Thor closed the drawer to Loki’s desk and stood up, fingers closed around the little wooden beast. 

He left the room slowly, a step at a time. 

Odin was waiting for him in the hallway. “I thought I ordered this room sealed,” he said, voice slightly harsh. Thor glanced aside. 

"It opened for me. Perhaps Frigga…"

Something strange flickered across his father’s face. “That woman,” he said, sounding suddenly weary. “Always with a will of her own.” He pauseda, and said, “Thor. Did you take anything?” 

That seemed an odd question. “No,” Thor said, not quite knowing why he lied. The legs of the wooden carving dug into his palm. 

"Good," said Odin. "Leave the dead to the dead, my son." 

Thor bowed his head so he didn’t say  _where is your grief? Mourning Loki would not be so heavy if I did not feel I bore it alone._ "I understand, father." He turned. "I was just leaving." 

Odin did not call him back as Thor moved with heavy tread back down the hallway. He did not know why he had come here. He could not stay in Asgard, not now, not surrounded by ghosts.

He opened his hand in front of him, head bowing to look down at the misshapen wooden thing he had given his brother, all those years ago. The gleam on the wood, like someone had rubbed it, over and over, until the oils of their skin had leached into the very substance of the thing. 

Surrounded by ghosts, Thor thought, and carrying one with him. 


	4. grief in a house of gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sickness strikes Asgard, or more particularly Frigga. She survives, but there is still a loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone prompted "kiddo Loki trying to cheer up mama Frigga" and this was what resulted. Warning this chapter for miscarriage.

The plague had been raging for ten days when the All-Mother fell ill. 

For the next three days the palace was absolutely still and quiet, the doors to the royal wing locked and barred and the only sound that of prayers and the weeping of those who had already lost loved ones. 

On the fourth day, the All-Father emerged to give word that that Queen Frigga had survived and was recovering, and then retreated once more. For the duration of that time, the two princes had been sent away, into the country, and when they returned they were still not allowed to see their mother. “She is very tired,” Odin told them. “Most of all, right now she needs to sleep.” 

"But she’s all right?" Thor demanded to know. Their father sighed heavily, but he nodded. 

"Yes," he said. "Your mother is well." 

Loki was less than satisfied. He did not quite believe that their father  _would_ say if all were not well, and the thought worried him - that somewhere his mama might be suffering and he was not doing anything about it, and could not hold her hand and fetch her water or soup the way she did when he was sick. When he was certain Thor was not looking - because Thor would want to come and Thor was not very good at being sneaky - Loki slipped away from their nurse and snuck out into the palace. 

He knew the way to his mama’s rooms well, having gone there many nights when he woke up frightened. It was easier than usual to stay hidden, since there were few servants about and so not very many eyes to see a prince sneaking where he oughtn’t to be.

Loki made his way stealthily to his mama’s door and took a moment to listen, hoping his father would not be there. He would probably be angry to see Loki disobeying his orders - even if he had not explicitly  _said_ that Loki could not go where he pleased. He heard no voices, though, and so stood on tiptoe to open the door and let himself inside. 

The lights were all out and for a moment he wavered guiltily, suddenly realizing that his mama might be sleeping, but then she spoke: “Odin, love, I told you I was fine. Stop fretting and go eat.” 

Loki was immediately certain that all of his fear had been justified. His mama sounded so  _tired,_ and so  _sad._  He’d never heard her sound like that at all, and it scared him - but he made himself stand straight and brave. “It’s me,” he said, “Mama, it’s Loki.”

"Loki?" His mama sounded astonished. "What are you doing here?" If she did not sound angry, Loki still felt the urge to quail at the stern note that entered her voice. 

"I wanted to see you and make sure that you were all right," he said, scuffing his feet on the carpet. "Father said you were sick and I thought…" It seemed very foolish now, that he might make her feel better. He was only a child, and such a small, weak one at that - everyone said. 

"Oh, my boy." His mama sighed, and then one of the lamps beside her bed came on. "Come here and sit with me." 

Loki obeyed, clambering up onto her large bed with some difficulty. Seeing her face made him scared all over again - his mama looked thin, and her eyes were red like she’d been crying. She pulled him into a hug, almost too tight, and he wriggled a little. “Mama…”

"I am sorry," she said, and her voice wobbled a little, arms loosening. "I know it must have been scary and strange for you. But I am not sick anymore." 

He shifted so he could cuddle a little more comfortably, turning his head to look at her face. “If you’re not sick, why are you so sad?” He asked, brows furrowed, and his mama shook her head, pulling him close and pressing her face into his hair. 

"Loki…" She trailed off, and sighed, then leaned back and began stroking his hair. It made Loki feel very young in a way he was not sure he liked - he was very grown up now, after all - but he suspected it made his mama feel better so he didn’t object. "You know how your papa and I told you and Thor that you were going to have another sibling?" 

"Ye-es," Loki said, cautiously. He had not really liked the idea, though Thor seemed to. In his mind, one brother was enough. Sometimes more than enough. 

His mama’s eyes were closed. “When I got sick…it hurt the baby, too. And I’m better now, but…” She took a shuddery breath, and stopped.

Loki chewed on the inside of his cheek and wondered for a moment if it was his fault, but he didn’t ask. Tears fell from his mama’s eyes and Loki reached up and touched her face, feeling very small, but not in a baby sort of way, just…helpless. “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to think what he could do that would help. He put his small arms around her neck and hugged her as tightly as he could. Suddenly Loki felt as though he should have brought Thor. Thor would have been better at this, would have known what to say or do to make her feel better. 

"Oh, no, love," his mama said. "Don’t be sorry." She hugged him back, and Loki could feel her tears falling on his head. "It’ll be all right."

"I wish I knew how to make it better," Loki said in a small voice.

"You do," his mama said, her voice slightly muffled. "Oh, child. You do."


	5. December, I remember, we smiled for a while

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Sitting on the edge of the shattered Bifrost, Thor remembered._

Sitting on the edge of the shattered Bifrost, Thor remembered: 

They were young, but not so young; old enough to go adventuring alone but not so old that they would go far. Thor did not remember exactly how the idea had gotten into his head - a bit of mischief, he thought it. Turnabout for those times that Loki had hidden himself from Thor only to reappear when Thor was on the verge of panic, laughing gleefully at his brother’s folly. “I was right there!” He would say, grinning. “You ran right by me!” 

Whatever the reason, when they reached the pool where they were going swimming and Loki ducked behind some bushes to undress - an odd ritual of his, but Thor had given up teasing him about unnecessary modesty - he tiptoed away and hid himself at a safe distance, far enough that Loki’s search wouldn’t find him right away but close enough that he could watch his brother’s reaction. He left Mjolnir for effect, and briefly wished that he’d had time to catch some animal so he could add a little blood to make Loki  _really_ squirm. 

Loki emerged a moment later, arms folded around his thin chest. He stopped short, though, eyes flicking from Mjolnir to the still, clear water of the swimming hole. Thor could not quite make out his expression, but he saw Loki tense, his arms unfolding. 

"Thor?" He called, and it was all Thor could do not to laugh and give himself away. "Don’t tell me you couldn’t find the water and went wandering off." 

Thor narrowed his eyes and resolved to stay hidden longer, just for that. 

"I know you’re out there," Loki said, turning in a slow circle. "Though I’m surprised you left your precious hammer behind."

Frustrated, Thor held his ground. He had hoped that Loki would not be quite so reasonable. It was ruining the joke. 

"Thor," Loki said, and now his tone didn’t sound quite so light, "Stop this nonsense right-" He cut off, roving gaze stopping, and Thor thought for a moment he’d been seen but Loki’s gaze was in entirely the wrong direction.

Then his brother made an awful sort of choking noise and lurched forward, into the water. “No,” he said, “oh no, oh no-” Thor tried to look without coming out, because maybe this was a trick and if it was he wouldn’t fall for it, but he couldn’t quite see. He moved, just a little, and felt his heart jump into his throat because there was a body floating in the water, facedown and clearly dead, and Thor could see the golden hair fanned out and floating on the water. He felt frozen.

"Thor!" Loki said, nearly screamed, and slipped on a stone, dropping flailing and sputtering into the water. Thor burst out of hiding and ran back, waded into the water and grabbed his brother. Loki fought him, struggling wildly.

"It’s me!" Thor said. "Loki - Loki, look at me, I’m fine, that’s not - I’m  _fine,_ " but Loki didn’t seem to hear him, still fighting, gasping for air in little wheezing breaths, kicking at Thor’s legs and thrashing like an eel. "Loki!" Thor shouted, right in his ear. "Listen to me!"

Loki seemed beyond hearing. One particularly well aimed kick hit Thor in the knee and he buckled with a shout of pain, dropping them both into the water. Loki was clearly panicking in a way Thor had never seen before, his frantic, shallow breaths alarmingly fast. 

"Loki," Thor said, trying to think fast, forcing his voice to be calm. "It’s me, Thor. It’s just me. Please, try to - deep breaths. It’s just me, I’m right here, I’m not…hurt." 

Loki stopped fighting, but he was still wheezing, his body rigid in Thor’s arms. He adjusted his hold, trying ot ignore how uncomfortable it was to be sitting in water in his clothes. 

"I’m - you can hear me breathing, right?" Thor tried. "Just - try to do it like me." He remembered, awfully, saying the same thing when Loki had first picked up a sword, big-eyed and determined, and felt a sudden rush of guilt. "Just like me, all right?" 

Loki’s ribs expanded, but barely. He seemed to be fighting for air. Thor’s heart was pounding but he tried to keep his voice calm. He needed to fix this, whatever had happened. He cursed - everything, the stupid idea of getitng payback, the stupid luck of there being a damned  _body_ in their swimming hole today of all days. Slowly, what felt like too slowly, Loki’s breathing moderated and his body started to relax and go limp. 

"Thor," Loki said, his voice hoarse. He sounded exhausted. "It wasn’t…it wasn’t you."

"No," Thor said. "It wasn’t. We need to…tell father. There must be bandits in these woods somewhere, or maybe a wyvern." 

Loki nodded, slumping in Thor’s arms. He didn’t ask where Thor had been. “I thought,” he said, and stopped, not finishing the sentence. 

"Let’s just go home," Thor said, gently, but his heart was still galloping. Loki didn’t even try to argue. 

Thor’s head dropped forward, staring down into the chaos of the Void. What Loki had been like in their battle…he had not recognized it then, but now he thought maybe there was something in it like the desperate way he’d fought that day at the swimming hole, struggling to breathe. And when he’d - when he’d-

Thor remembered the exhausted way Loki’s head had fallen against his chest as he calmed. The exhausted way he’d looked up at Odin and let his fingers uncurl. Tears started in Thor’s eyes and he blinked them away.

If he’d held on a little tighter, would Loki still be alive?


	6. you'll never find your way back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor finds Loki on Earth, where he's not...doing much of anything, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this very old [gifset](http://gloriousmonsters.tumblr.com/post/70781968888/doodlinjaz-doodleigh-vforvet-auloki) someone tagged me in, and subsequently prompted me to write a thing for. So I did! :D And it was sad.

“You cut your hair,” Thor said blankly. Loki reached up and touched it. It was a mess, uneven and ragged and, indeed, shorter. He’d hacked it off one day in a blurry haze of anger and something else he didn’t like to quantify, when he’d hovered for a moment between using the scissors for something else. It was a stupid, melodramatic gesture.

Most of them were.

“Yes,” he said, after a long pause. Thor’s eyebrows knitted together. 

“Loki,” he said, and took a step forward. Loki took a step back and Thor stopped. He looked confused. “I thought you were dead." 

A part of Loki, a bitter part, wanted to laugh. _I meant to be. That was what I expected. The universe has never liked me, though._ "Apparently not.” He watched Thor swallow, dully. He did not look to have changed at all - just as shining, just as golden. 

“I don’t understand,” he said, and then stopped, and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Come home.”

“Asgard is not my home.” The words fell easily from his mouth, though they tasted heavy on his tongue. It was the first time he’d spoken them aloud. They didn’t feel wrong, though. He’d known that since letting go. Thor’s frown deepened. 

“You cannot stay here." 

"Why not?” Loki’s voice sounded dull to his own ears. He thought he ought to be able to summon spite, or anger, or something, but it simply…wasn’t there. He’d spent so long hating Thor, but what was the point, really? 

Thor wasn’t the problem. 

“Because-” Thor seemed to flounder for words. “–Loki, you need to come back with me. Mother and father and I-”

“Go home, Thor,” Loki said. The words came out almost gently. “I will not accompany you. Will you try to carry me off by force?" 

Thor’s expression turned slightly stormy. "No,” he said, “I would not - I do not wish to, but-”

“Go home.”

“What are you doing here?” Thor burst out. “What do you want with Midgard? What do you intend-”

Loki felt himself sneer. “Are you asking if I wish to conquer it?” Thor faltered, and Loki scoffed, quietly. “No, Thor, I do not. I intend nothing. As for what I am doing…” He trailed off. Hoped that Thor did not ask again, because he didn’t know the answer. Before this, he might have said ‘waiting.’ He could not say 'living.’ “I don’t need you here. I don’t want you here." 

"You do not mean that.” Thor sounded hurt. He took a step nearer, one hand reaching out and then dropping back to his side. “Loki…”

His cropped hair brushed against his cheekbone. Reminded him of days spent lying half awake in bed, devoid of the energy even to get up. He turned. “If ever you loved me,” he said, quietly. “Then do as I ask now, and go home.”

“Loki,” Thor said again. Loki began to walk away. “Brother…”

“I am not,” Loki said, the familiar words like ashes in his mouth. “I never was.”

He went inside, and closed the door behind him.


End file.
